


ain't nothing but a sore

by weird_bird (2weird4)



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Friends with Benefits to Enemies to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-27 00:21:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15012611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2weird4/pseuds/weird_bird
Summary: Topaz looks down as her pad pings. “Plus tax.”Valkyrie’s hand flies to her chip when it vibrates to indicate credit withdrawn. “There aren’t any taxes on Sakaar!”Topaz fixes her with that flat look she’s been on the receiving end of too many times. “You’ve been gone a long time.”





	ain't nothing but a sore

**Author's Note:**

> usually, i'm like, "no one asked for this," but actually, a couple of good friends did! 
> 
> title from ["if i ever feel better"](https://youtube.com/watch?v=jJp3kVelU3c) by phoenix.

“The _one_ planet where we’ve both made enemies of everyone on it--” Valkyrie throws an elbow in the face of a scrapper and leaps over yet another who lies moaning on the trash-strewn trash ground of this trash planet.

“I wouldn’t say the _one._ Oh, f--” Thor shocks a reedy man with long claws right in the face. “One of several, maybe!” he shouts over to her.

“We don’t have time for this!” 

“Why? We got what we came for.” Grabbing a woman who runs sideways at him, he launches her over his head. “Isn’t this fun? Fun end to a successful--ouch!” He slaps at the side of his neck. She had enough time to stick him, apparently. 

She thinks he deserved it, a little, even as she drops her like a bag of rocks. _“I_ don’t have time for this.” She doesn't have time for _Sakaar._

“I’m bleeding,” Thor announces.

Rolling her eyes, Valkyrie grabs him by the arm. All’s quiet for a moment, so she ducks around a pile of garbage. Then she waves him over to follow. 

In her ear, Thor comments cheerfully, “Just like old times.”

She stomps on his foot, and he gives her a wounded look. “Deja vu,” she agrees under her breath before she runs ahead, darting from pile to pile. She flings on her hood and gestures for Thor to do the same. In the crush of the city, it’s easier to disappear than on her too-exposed old stomping grounds. “We’ll get you something for your neck so you don’t bleed all over my ship, and then you go guard my ship while it refuels, all right?”

“Why do I have the feeling you’re trying to get rid of me?” When she doesn’t answer, he asks, “What are _you_ going to do?”

“I,” she says, edging around someone whose gaze is sweeping around a little too much, “am going to drink.”

Thor blinks. “I’ll be...designated driver, then.”

Deliberately, Valkyrie turns and stares. 

“Midgard humor.”

“ _Don’t_ touch my ship.” His eye widens, and she smiles and pats his cheek. “...Your Majesty.”

The pharmacies here are mostly good places to go to die faster, so she skirts neatly past them and the women in too many robes hawking their wares instead. She opens the door of a bustling pub instead, lit up in eye-searing yellows. Uproar and din. Perfect.

Swaggering up to the bar, she thumps her forearms down on it and raps the counter for the bartender’s attention. “I’ll take a Xandarian flaming and a clean rag.”

“A what?” And then the bartender turns around.

Valkyrie straightens. She _hates_ Sakaar. “Clean rag for my friend.” She glances back at Thor, who’s wedged himself uncomfortably into a too-small chair, leg flung over the side.

“Scrapper one-forty-two.” There’s a sneer between every syllable, and when Valkyrie turns around, a matching curled lip. Clanking around under the bar, Topaz slams down the brandy. “Come crawling back here, have you?”

“I recall flying out, actually.” She clears her throat, tosses back her shoulders, and reaches for the bottle. 

“And _blowing up my ship_ before you left.” Topaz seizes the bottle by the neck, knuckles white. “Transfer the credits.”

“Hey,” Valkyrie says defensively, “you made it, didn’t you?” Topaz looks better than ever, even, all in dark leather and with swirls of white paint on her strong features. “You look good.”

She takes a moment to collect herself, eyes-closed expression entirely too familiar, before she growls, “Pay me or get out.”

“All right, all right, take it easy.” Valkyrie fishes the old chip out of her belt. Looking around as she taps in the amount, she says, “Doesn’t look like you’re suffering for funding.” The place is well-furnished and packed, probably one of the nicest bars she’s seen here that isn’t gated and for off-worlders here for the games only. The music’s fantastic--Topaz always had taste there.

“Pension money,” Topaz grunts reluctantly. 

“You get a pension?” Valkyrie exclaims. “Wait.” She closes in to scrutinize her. “You get a _pension?”_ There’s a thread of silver in her slickly-pulled back hair.

Topaz looks down as her pad pings. “Plus tax.”

Valkyrie’s hand flies to her chip when it vibrates to indicate credit withdrawn. “There aren’t any taxes on Sakaar!”

Topaz fixes her with that flat look she’s been on the receiving end of too many times. “You’ve been gone a long time.”

She looks away at that, rubbing her arm. Looking over her shoulder again, she spots Thor spreading his hands, befuddled. She spreads her hands right back at him, shaking her head. “What about that rag for my friend?”

Topaz reaches in for a rag that’s _mostly_ white. Yeah, good enough.

Just as Valkyrie takes it from her, her chip vibrates again. “Oh, _come on!”_

Stumping up behind her, Thor lays a hand on her shoulder. “Is there a problem here, ladies?”

At once, Valkyrie and Topaz snap, “No!” They freeze and glare at each other.

Something seems to occur to Thor, his mouth rounding and his one eye widening. He points between the two of them, staring at the side of Valkyrie’s face. “Should I…”

Valkyrie shrugs off his hand and passes him the rag. “Go wait in the ship.” 

He frowns and shakes his head. “I’m _not_ leaving you here, Valkyrie. You hate this planet. Since we’ve gotten here, you haven’t been yourself. Or at least, I haven’t seen you like this in months. It’s not good for you.”

She can feel Topaz watching her. “I’m asking you to go.”

“She still has that melt-stick?” Thor stage-whispers.

“She does,” Topaz confirms, deadpan.

“I can handle myself, thank you,” Valkyrie says. She makes herself calm. “Just--please, go, Your Majesty.”

He studies them for a moment longer before he resigns himself and clasps her forearm. “Don’t die.”

He’s right. Not that she’s in any real danger--he’s right that she does hate this planet. It reminds her of what she used to be and what she _couldn’t_ be. The heavy doors swing open to the chatter in the streets, and it’s not until they slam closed that she pops open the liquor and takes a swig that singes her throat all the way down to her belly.

Topaz eyes her, arms crossed over her chest. “Thought you wanted a flaming?”

With a vague noise of affirmation, Valkyrie tilts the mouth of the bottle towards her. 

Steadying the bottle with a hand, Topaz gets a lighter out of her breast pocket and fires it up, making blue flames leap around the rim, some of the alcohol burning off and intensifying the flavor of the Xandarian. Over the bottle, their fingers touch for just a moment too long. Blue flickers in the unreadable brown of Topaz’s eyes before she pulls away and stands up behind the bar.

Valkyrie licks around the rim with the glass still hot and takes another swig. She lets it burn down inside her again and whoops, thumping the bar with a fist and stretching her body backwards. Sweat pops out on her forehead, and she lets out a ragged exhale.

Topaz’s broad mouth twitches. “Good?”

Her fingers twitch for the bottle. Her fist curls, and she flattens her hands on the bar and stands up straight to match Topaz instead. “Not bad.”

Emotion wars over Topaz’s face. “Scrapper--”

“Valkyrie.”

 _“Brunn.”_ That _name_ in that _voice._ “It’s been years since you’ve left. Things have changed.”

Her fist grinds into the bar. “You’re the one who changed.” She shakes her head. It hurts to hold her gaze. “What we had _worked,_ and you just--” She makes a helpless hand motion.

 _“We_ worked.” Eyebrows raised, Topaz gestures between that. “You and me, if you remember that.”

“Of course I remember,” Valkyrie mutters. Remembers the last time they really touched before she left--celebrating together, not calling it an anniversary on her own insistence, celebrating Topaz’s promotion to the Grandmaster’s head guard instead, supposedly. Last time they really looked into each other’s eyes. “I remember that our--that it worked out for us until you wanted something different.” She lifts her eyes resentfully to Topaz’s grim face.

“What we had wasn’t enough,” Topaz tells her, and Valkyrie _never_ flinches, but it’s a near thing. 

Despite the noise of the bar, her every word burrows into Valkyrie’s head as easy as it always has. She _gets_ to her. Valkyrie isn’t easily got. She shakes her head back and forth. “You asked more than I could give.”

“No.” Topaz’s jaw clenches. “I asked you for more than you’d give me.” She leans over the counter until they’re almost nose-to-nose. “There’s a difference.”

She remembers that, too. She remembers Topaz coaxing in the night, distant in the morning, pulled back in by afternoon, smile dimmed. They could have gotten a place together, Topaz told her, a third floor with a two-ship docking port, a walk-in armory-closet, a star-roof. They could have made more of a life than either of them had apart or like they were, half-caught and spinning apart. Valkyrie’s eyes flick between hers before she falls back onto her heels and dips her head. “I was different then.” The scars dragged down her heart down into the dark away from everyone, including herself.

Topaz angles her chin up, narrows her eyes to consider her. “Now?” 

She swallows and whispers, “I’m different.” Pushing up on her toes again, she kisses her.

That mouth, once so generous, quick with affection or barbs or both, doesn’t move. Her warmth radiates, yet she feels far away. Slowly, slowly, her lips slant against hers. Callused hands cover her wrists, and by the time Topaz kisses her, it’s been years for her, too.

Valkyrie kisses her fast and hard, grasping at her face with both hands, opening her mouth to hers like she’ll never get the chance again. She almost never did. She loves the shape of her face under her palms. She loves--a lot of things.

Hand sliding under her hair to hold her nape, Topaz has her where she wants her and kisses her how she wants her, too. Then, with a huff of exertion the only thing breaking their kiss, Topaz leaps and clears the bar. And _neither_ of them chip a tooth.

She laughs with delight and when she jumps up, Topaz catches her legs around her waist and keeps her up to kiss her. “I can’t believe that worked,” she says breathlessly. Her thumbs play with the paint on her cheeks.

Topaz almost looks insulted, and over Valkyrie’s laughter, demands, “You can’t?”

Forehead tipped against her, she kisses her, kisses her, and tells her with more fondness than she’s ever allowed herself before, “You’re the same.”

What she forced herself to forget--how Topaz looks when love steals across her face. Grinning wide, Topaz buries her face against her throat.

Valkyrie wraps her arms around her and holds on tight, rubbing her back with a hand. “Tell me there’s an upstairs.”

“S’an upstairs,” Topaz mumbles against her neck and squeezes her hard enough that it would have hurt almost anyone else.

“The bar?” 

“Might not be on fire when we get back.” Hitching her against herself, she carries Valkyrie all the way across the bar, patrons parting in confusion.

Valkyrie taps her boot against her lower back and waves before the door closes behind them.

Topaz sets her down on the stairs, and they grin like fools at each other in the dark. 

Valkyrie hugs her again. “You know, you were very nasty to me in the weeks before I flew out with The Revengers.”

“The Revengers?” Topaz asks skeptically.

“Not the point. You--” She pokes her chest. “--shot me.”

“I _tried,”_ Topaz corrects, exasperated. “You actually shot me down! In more ways than one!”

Valkyrie props her hands on her hips. “My point is--”

“Were you getting to a point? What about the point where I almost died?”

“--we have some scores to settle.” Valkyrie inclines her head and raises an eyebrow.

Topaz smirks and grabs for her. “Oh, I’ll settle your score.”

It’s like the old days, but Valkyrie feels so much younger than she did when she pounds up the stairs. She tries two wrong doors first before running and bouncing onto the bed.

She’s ready for it when Topaz throws her whole weight at her, and she takes her on top of her, pressing up just to feel how much she’s pressing down. “Did you miss me?” 

Taking both her wrists in one hand, Topaz pulls them above her head. “Did I miss you,” she ponders. 

Her hand slides down low, and Valkyrie gasps, locking her legs around her waist and grinding into her stomach. Frustrated by all the bulky material between them, she groans, head tipped back. Topaz’s breasts rest so soft and heavy on her, and Valkyrie’s blood throbs with hunger against her hand.

“Did you miss me?” Topaz whispers in her ear. The fingers in her leggings brush over her hard clit. “Maybe you just missed this.” Just this side of rough, and the heated friction makes her hips stutter, frantic.

Planting a boot on her hip, Valkyrie wrestles her wrists back to herself and bowls her over onto her back. Then she mounts her, thighs on either side of her thick waist. “Paz, if you _tease--”_ she warns.

Topaz massages up and down her folds, and when did she get so _wet._ “Who’s teasing?” Sitting up with her in her lap, Topaz drags her in with a hand on her ass, and Valkyrie humps up against her, breath wild.

She kisses Topaz’s ear and lifts up her hips so Topaz can roll down her leggings while she hustles off her embellished jacket. “So, what, you haven’t been keeping around a pretty waitress?”

Under, Topaz is wearing a shirt gone thin with sweat. Her stout chest rises and falls beneath, and fat folds over her strong core. When Valkyrie can make herself look up, she sees Topaz shake her head. “Where’s your green-skinned sex kitten?”

Valkyrie screws up her face. “And _what_ would I do with _her?”_ Lips curving, she sits up on Topaz’s stomach. Her eyes hold hers as she rubs herself, slick and slow, over her stomach.

Up close, Topaz’s eyes darken, and her fingers dig into her ass, shoving her up her body, making Valkyrie cry out at the sudden slide of skin. “What am I going to do with _you?”_

Taking Topaz’s free hand, she tugs it to her clit. “You’re going to make me come,” Valkyrie whispers.

And Topaz really, really does.

 

Limbs gone weak, Valkyrie pillows half her body on Topaz’s chest.

A hand strokes down her bare side, curving around her hip and then resting, happily proprietary, on her naked thigh.

“Mm…” Valkyrie nuzzles into her and angles for a kiss. It’s a sweet smear of lips, and she sighs into it. No one can _ever_ know. About any of this. Ever. 

Topaz plays with her hair, gone frizzy with the humidity of sex, and then strokes over her head. It’s so soothing. Out the star-roof, Topaz’s ship bobs, the lot in the dock next to it empty.

Then Valkyrie sits bolt upright. “The _ship!”_ She shakes Topaz’s shoulder. “The Revengers!” Jumping out of bed, she tries to pull her leggings up her sweaty legs and hurriedly kicks a boot up into her hand so she can start shoving it onto her foot.

Much more gradually, Topaz pushes herself upright, wearing an expression so tired, she looks her age--looks like Valkyrie was really gone as long as she was. She sighs out all her breath, and the mouth she’s just relearned droops into disappointment.

A fist crushes Valkyrie’s heart, and she stops moving. “Paz, I didn’t come to Sakaar to...stay.”

“I’m not as stupid as I look,” Topaz says, a terrible chill in her voice. “I know. Go, Brunn. I know how this ends.”

But defiance seizes her then. “No,” she says, shaking her head and dropping her boots so she can grab her hands and squeeze them to her chest, pulling a wooden-faced Topaz to her feet. “You _don’t_ know.”

 

“What kept you--oh, hey.” Thor rears back from Topaz’s melt-stick. _”Oh.”_ He cuts a sideways look at Valkyrie. “Listen, you can have all the credits you want, we don’t have time for a hostage situation right now.”

“Oh, we don’t have time now?” Valkyrie snorts. Stepping up beside Topaz, she knocks back her melt-stick by the shaft. “It’s not a _hostage_ situation.”

Bruce coughs delicately from the back. “Then, uh, what kind of situation is it?”

Valkyrie’s expression contorts. She snatches up Topaz’s hand and tries not to go red.

Bruce’s eyes round, and his head whips over to Thor.

To his credit, Thor recovers swiftly, though something about his expression tells her she’s not heard the end of this yet. “Ah, I see.” Thor winks at her. 

“What do you see?” Her fingers tighten on Topaz’s hand. It’s only when she sees out of the corner of her eye that a minute wince of discomfort mars Topaz’s smile that she relaxes her grip. A little. 

Thor winks again. “The situation.” 

With a long-suffering sigh, Valkyrie tosses her good bottle of flaming over to Bruce.

Who does _not_ catch it. The glass shatters. The very distinct smell of Xandarian alcohol floods the ship. “Yikes,” Bruce says.

“I payed fourteen credits for that,” Valkyrie despairs.

“Plus tax,” Topaz adds without contrition.

“Plus tax.” She flaps a dismissive hand and flops down into her seat, buckling up. “Let’s just get out of here.”

“Yes! Let’s be off!” Thor claps his hands together. “Revengers!” 

“Yeah!” Bruce cheers quietly as he waves away the alcohol fumes. “Revengers!”

Valkyrie yanks Topaz down by the front of her shirt, kisses her firm, and then shoves her into the seat by her side. “Have I mentioned how much I hate Sakaar?”

After she stows her one hastily-packed bag under her set, Topaz buckles herself in and smirks over at her. “That does sound familiar.”

She breathes out and so no one sees, she directs her smile at the sky above. Taking the controls, Valkyrie shoots the ship out and up through the swirling vortex of the Devil’s Anus for the second time and what she _has_ to believe is the last. 

Not for the first time, Valkyrie doesn’t know how this will end, but all the same, she begins again.


End file.
